Broken Bird
by Weasley's Revenge
Summary: He had been cordially invited to the wedding of Jacqueline Burkhart and Random Asshole.  Hyde always thought the day she wore a wedding dress she would be marrying him. Post S8.  JH after a fashion.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** First 70s fic so please be kind. JH of course because there is none better. If you read my NCIS fic, I urge you to give this a chance-it's still me. Rated for drug use (of course) and smut/sexual situation starting next chapter. Also do not kill me for this not being NCIS my muse if just really pissy lately…anyway without further ado:

**Point Place, Wisconsin. Late June 1980 (Hyde)**

He had always known she wanted to get married. He just hadn't expected her to say yes to the first random asshole who asked her.

She looked beatific as the sun set behind her creating the halo she'd always wanted. The diamond engagement ring—five and a half carats—rested too heavily on her dainty finger and burned dimly in the low light. Her new wedding band was yellow gold with diamonds. Hyde looked away as The Ass place it on her finger. At this point, he was unsure why he'd come at all. Watching the girl he still loved get married wasn't exactly at the top of his list of priorities. In fact, he was still trying to convince himself that this was some perverse burn. The brainchild of Kelso or Fez, hell maybe it was Jackie's sick way of getting back at him for the whole stripper-wife thing.

But somehow when she leaned into that kiss with that dirty bastard, he couldn't help but see the finality of the situation. She was married someone that was not him, and it stung. He hadn't even known about Ralph, or Larry, or John, or whatever the hell is name actually was—not until he'd seen the ivory cardstock in his mail. Too nice to be the junk mail he usually received he'd been tempted enough to open it and damn it he wished he hadn't. Right there in some elegant script he'd received the shock of his life.

He had been cordially invited to the wedding of Jacqueline Burkhart and Random Asshole.

All of Kitty's "basement babies" were there. Eric and Donna newly engaged (again), Kelso with Brooke and little Betsy, Fez fresh from LA where he'd grown quite a reputation even after 6 months of hairdressing for the stars, and him the burnout who married someone who was not the girl he loved and now had to watch as said girl married someone else.

Hyde had only met the arrogant son of a bitch yesterday. It was so un-Jackie not to flaunt a new boyfriend; then again she had only met her now husband three months ago.

After she had come to the realization that Fez was oh so very gay, they had gone their separate ways. He had moved to LA to pursue his hairstyling career, and she had been taken on as the cutest weather girl Buffalo had ever seen. She had met Larry in Buffalo. Sweet, caring Larry with a rugged side that was close enough to _his_ to get her at least a little hot some of the time.

**Buffalo, New York. Late March 1980 (Jackie)**

_She had just finished her evening report when her assistant—she couldn't get over that she had an assistant—called her name. She turned to see a strange man standing next to Shauna. "Ms. Burkhart this is Larry Sloan he's says he's a big fan." Jackie assessed him in one look. Early twenties, full head of brown hair, brown eyes—a little beady, heavy eyebrows, straight nose—a little on the big side, he was about 6'2'', and wearing a suit that said he cared about how he looked. As far as first impressions went, he wasn't half bad._

"_Anything I can do for you?" Her tone is a little cold and she softens it slightly as she says his name, letting the unfamiliar syllables fall from her lips._

"_I just need a moment of your time." His voice is slick, almost greasy._

"_Only a moment?"_

"_Can't a moment be enough?" Despite herself she likes him—just an inking within her—because he is bantering with her like Fez never did. He is bantering like…and she doesn't allow herself to finish that thought._

"_Sometimes a moment is all you need."_

"_Tomorrow at 7:30 PM I have a reservation at a restaurant and I desire a woman to share it with." He said this with the practiced ease of a man who was rarely refused._

"_That's a little presumptuous of you. What if I have a boyfriend? What if I already have plans?" As an afterthought she added, "It's kind of a dick move."_

_She could see a muscle in his jaw jump as the anger at her comment registered. His reply is still smooth. "I would expect you to dump him because he can't be good enough to deserve you, and no plan of yours could beat this dinner."_

_Against her better judgment—and that little voice in her head that sounded like her ex-boyfriend—she agreed, and that was how it started. _

**Point Place, Wisconsin. Late June 1980 (Jackie)**

She always knew she would get married. She just hadn't expected herself to say yes to the first random guy to ask her. Larry was nice and Larry was sweet, but he was not the love of her life.

Still there was a ring on her finger, a dress on her small frame, and a lumberjack in some frilly lavender thing. She should be happier that she was finally getting married. Larry would provide what Steven never had—stability—because Larry was boring, but he was always there. It had been such a whirlwind from that first night to now. Only three months ago she had been continuing the struggle against running back into _his_ arms, and now this. Standing at the altar, holding hands with a man that would do. Married at nineteen to a twenty two year old with deep pockets, and a severe infatuation with her.

There were better outcomes that she'd had planned in her head. White weddings with Led Zeppelin and curly-haired babies who spewed conspiracy theories, but those dreams were a figment of a past life now. The life she was embarking on looked more like the life she had dreamed of before Steven. The life that involved nannies and an absentee mother—the life she had lived as a child. The life she had hated with a vehement passion.

Donna gave her that look again. The look she'd been getting from everyone. The look that said, "You're crazy. Why are you doing this? You don't know him. We don't know him." The look that conveyed all of the things she was feeling.

Tired of being a circus attraction Jackie snapped at her maid of honor. "What?"

"Jackie… no one wants you to do this. Even Hyde said—"

"Don't talk about Steven with me, Donna. I am getting married to Larry. We are in love, and I'm not sure why everyone feels the need to break us apart." The words sounded weak even to her own ears, and she knew that the real reason she couldn't have Donna doing this was that she was just as unsure about Larry.

"Jackie, he gives me the creeps. You're my best friend, and I just don't want you to get hurt." The blond leaned down to hug her, but Jackie shrugged away from the embrace.

"You didn't care when it was Steven's stripper who was hurting me so you shouldn't care if my fiancé does!" The outburst was sudden and jolted Donna.

"Jesus, Jackie, where the _hell_ did that come from. I was being nice to a guest."

"And Larry is a guest who's never hurt me as badly as that damn stripper so you better get used to it. Not every decision I make will make you happy, but if it makes me happy that's what matters."

"Wow that was deep— in a vapid way. How did you do that?"

"I have a lot of talents, Donna." Her voice was pure venom, and she reveled in the shocked look on her best-friends face, and the felt like a horrible bitch. "That came out wrong."

"No, Jackie, I get it. I'm sorry. I didn't ever mean to hurt you." This time when Donna leaned down to hug her she accepted it.

"Now I have to get married." She was beaming on the outside—even if she cringed internally at those words.

**Point Place, Wisconsin. Late June 1980 (Hyde)**

He had managed to stay sober until the ceremony, but was determined to make full use of the open bar. He wasn't leaving this wedding if he wasn't shitfaced. He knew he was close when he actually asked Jackie for a dance. He, Steven Hyde, Curmudgeon extraordinaire, asked a bride to dance in a public setting—that's when he knew he had to stop drinking. To his credit her new husband gave a small nod though Hyde did not enjoy the way he was being assessed.

Jackie looked at him coldly her voice all business. "Are we going to dance?"

"That's the idea, princess. Let's go old school." He placed a careful hand on the small of her back and took the other in his—just like Kitty taught him nearly five years ago. He could feel her body respond to his touch and was saddened to remember how well they fit together. He started to rotate them in a slow circle in time to the music. "You look…great." But great wasn't the word—radiant, sexy, hot, beautiful, but he kept getting stuck on the fact that this was for someone else.

"You're still scruffy." They both laughed a little at her bluntness.

He spun her away from him giving them both a moment to breathe. "I hope you're happy." He said it with everything in his heart because he really wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to have what he could never give her.

They were swaying together again when she spoke. "Larry and I are moving back to Point Place. The station offered me a job, and he can do business anywhere." Just when he thought she couldn't hurt him anymore, she went and did this. She looked into his eyes, and he knew he was caught.

**(Jackie)**

She'd always known why he wore those damn sunglasses all the time. They hid his eyes. His expressive, beautiful, azure eyes. She'd always loved those eyes, and she derived a sick pleasure from it now as she watched the hurt swim in them. It was justice for all the times he'd made her cry. At least, that was what she told herself.

He gathered himself quickly, "So, we'll see you in the basement this summer?" She merely nodded. With that the song was over, she was a bitch, and she'd hurt Steven.

He dropped his hands from her as soon as the song ended and walked away. She was left standing in the middle of the dance floor looking more like a lost child than a beaming bride.

Larry came up behind her and wrapped both arms around her shoulders. "So was the infamous Hyde?" Again she could only manage a nod. She had the silly urge to cry, but instead turned to her new husband and they danced for a while more until it was time for the next wedding thing.

**(Hyde)**

He needed to leave, to get the hell away from her. He's thought she'd lost the ability to hurt him like this, but he'd been wrong before. He decided he could have another drink; maybe he could just drink enough to forget this, but then he had an idea of something that was better than alcohol at making you forget.

He'd always viewed getting toasted alone as a special treat, a little form of meditation, but he'd never done it in the bathroom during a wedding reception because he couldn't stand to remember who was marrying who. Now it was just sad. He rolled himself a joint haphazardly, and took a drag. He held it in as long as he could relishing the dull burn that told him he was going to forget—at least for a little while.

**AN:** So, first time writing Jackie or Hyde. I could really use some feedback as I've only written for a few other fandoms.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **So this is basically setting up the basis for the rest of the story. This chapter has some Jackie/Larry and mentions (flashbacks) Jackie/Hyde. Contains adult material and situations. Oh and I found some Cosmos from the late 70s in the barn…they are lots of fun to read.

**AN 2: **Updated 1/26/11 I have changed this story to the "T" category because I don't think of this as true smut and I myself am of the "T" category and don't find it too "adult" just be warned: read at your own discretion.

Thank you all for the reviews I received for the last chapter they made my day.

**Airplane. Late June 1980 (Jackie)**

Larry's hand kept playing with the hem of her skirt gently teasing the fabric away from her thigh. She let him send a curious finger a few inches up her leg before she slapped his hand away. He gave her an exasperated look—again—and went back to his book.

She hit play on the walkman she had bought on a whim at the airport gift store. The familiar cords of Led Zeppelin washed through her entire body. _Physical Graffiti_ had to be her all-time favorite Zeppelin album. She knew it was _his, _and she also knew that her husband preferred KISS. She wondered why she ever thought that this was just dirty poor-people music when she loved it so much now. It was such an escape and it reminded her of when she had been happy, or at least happier than she had been in the past year. Larry had helped with that some.

**Buffalo, New York. Late March 1980 (Jackie)**

The awkward first date should be outlawed_, was her first thought as Larry Sloan led her from the silence of his car to the nicest restaurant in Buffalo. He put a possessive hand at the small of her back and she felt the urge to call him a caveman. She settled for shrugging it off of her._

_ The restaurant was dimly lit, a little smoky, and smelled like olive oil and garlic. He turned to her and gave her a little half-smile that made her stomach turn. "Nicest Italian restaurant in town, and I know Vinny so we have a special seat." Larry nodded to the hostess and proceeded to lead Jackie to the back of the dining room. The other diners stared at them as he started to take her up the back stairs._

_ The stairs were rickety and narrow making her wish she hadn't worn heels that were quite so high. He grabbed her hand and guided her down the dark hallway. She tried to crack a joke, "I sure hope you're not trying to, you know, rape me." He laughed awkwardly, and she felt herself blush. "Not that I think you would…it's just. I think I'll just shut up."_

_ "No, no I like it when you talk." _

_She snorted. "I can honestly say no one has ever told me they like it when I talk. Back home Ste—people offered to pay me for silence." She had almost said _his _name, and that was a first-date no-no. You did not talk about exes._

"_Ok, well close your eyes." She closed them obediently, and he again placed his hand at the small of her back while leading her into another room._

"_Open them." The room took her breath away—it was all twinkle lights and scented candles—but it also did a damn-fine job of reminding her of _him.

_She didn't know what to say. "This is so sweet and it reminds me of my grouchy, whore-marrying ex." Just didn't have the right ring to it. So she lied, "This is so sweet and romantic."_

"_I'm glad you like it. There should be some champagne," he looked around, "ah-hah! You do like champagne right?"_

"_I love champagne." She settled into one of the two seats at the table and he poured her a glass of her favorite drink._

**Later . Larry's Car.**

_"You," she pointed a finger at his chest, "Are cute! And I," she giggled, "Am drunk."_

_ "Nooo."_

_ "I totally am. Let me tell you a secret." She made a come-hither gesture with her fingers and whispered rather loudly in his ear, "I'm so drunk I would do it with you!" To herself she added, "Fuck Steven. He married a whore and not me." _

_ "So. Larry are ya gonna kiss me?" He didn't need to be asked twice._

_ His lips began to assault her neck and she kept giggling giving him little moans of appreciation. She gasped when his hands found their way to her panties. He didn't ask her if she wanted him to stop—like she knew _he _always did. Larry plowed on through, and before she knew it he was out of his pants and she didn't have any underwear. He looked at her asking permission._

_ She managed to mutter the word "condom." He acquiesced, and she nodded before he slid into her._

_ Jacqueline Burkhart was by no means an expert in the field of sex, but she knew enough to figure out that Larry was a horrible lover. He pushed into her too hard, grunted too much, and barely made her feel anything other than cheap. She decided she was going to do something she had never had to do before. Something Cosmo scorned beyond all belief. She was going to fake it. Larry strangled out a "Babe I'm close" and she put the magic on._

_ She contorted her mouth into a perfect pink "O" closed her eyes and imagined that she was with _him_ again. _

_She figured she was a damn good faker because he looked a little too proud as he was driving her back to her apartment. _

**Airplane. Late June 1980 (Jackie)**

If she forgot how horrible that first night was, he was nearly perfect. Just like Fez with the way he worshipped her every step, and maybe a little of the jealousy she had enjoyed from Steven.

They were flying to Mexico, and she only hoped that maybe he would accept a few pointers on how to actually please her instead of leaving her sore for days. His hand was on her thigh again this time touching her through her skirt.

After five minutes of uncomfortable squirming on her part and a few muttered expletives on his, she came. It wasn't really anything magical. Then he grabbed her hand and placed it none too delicately on his own lap. He expected her to return the favor. She sighed satisfied that everyone around them was asleep and then went to work—just like _he_ had taught her. It made her feel tawdry and cheap. Giving him a hand job in first class on an airplane.

It was a paradox really because even on that little cot in the basement giving the second blowjob of her life she had never felt lower than she did right then.

**Basement. March 1979. (Jackie)**

_She'd always known that he was a good kisser, and she'd known that he was good with his hands, but she hadn't known that if he put those two talents together he could make her scream. Michael had never been particularly good at _that. _She kissed him and could taste herself in his mouth. "That was so…hot." She smirked and began to kiss her way down his chest grabbing his erection through his boxers. "You know, Steven, I've been thinking. It's about time I return the favor."_

_ "Who are you, and what have you done with Jackie?" but his complaints were silenced as she placed her mouth right at the tip of his erection. She set to work taking him into her mouth and bobbing slowly while playing with the tip—just like Cosmo had said. He looped his fingers in her hair guiding her. _

_ She smirked as he gasped. Who knew that she would enjoy this feeling of power?_

_Common courtesy dictated that he tell her when he was about to burst, but she continued to suckle and when he did come she licked him clean._

_ Basking in the afterglow she settled back into his arms. "Where the _fuck_ did you learn to do that?" His voice was a little hoarse. _

_ "Cosmo. Did you like it?" She looked like a little minx flushed with the thrill of what she had just done._

_ "Doll, you're the best." And they fell asleep, wrapped together, a picture of perfection. _

__**Cancun. Late June 1980. **

She loved the sun, and the way she felt in a bikini. She also loved the way Larry looked at her when she lounged at the edge of the pool, but she did not love the way his hand dug uncomfortably into her waist. "Hey babe, want to go back to the room."

"Have another drink, Larry then we can go back. I want to stay here a little longer." He stormed away clearly mad at her, and she couldn't find it in herself to feel bad for him.

Jackie realized why her mother loved Cancun—the anonymity, the absolute freedom provided by salt air and a little too much tequila. Still, the lingering thought that this would be better if there was no Larry persisted in her mind, but she'd made her bed and now she had to lie in it

Half an hour later Larry stumbled up to her again significantly drunker. He grabbed her by the wrist and she could feel a bruise start to form. "We're going to the room now, wifey." She tore her hand from his grasp.

"What the hell?"

"Jackie, I need you right now."

"Well I'm not in the mood."

"Too bad." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She was too shocked too fight. Their room was a quick jaunt from the pool deck. Thrown down on the bed she stared up at her husband of two days.

"We are not having sex!" Her voiced squeaked. "I will call the fucking federales on your ass." She said it with a slight tenseness—only barely as a joke.

"Now, now, you little slut. You wouldn't do that to your new husband." His demeanor had completely changed. His shoulders were slumped towards her making her feel trapped.

"I would if you pull any more of this shit!" She stood to face him.

"Jackie, please don't swear, ladies shouldn't have foul mouths, and they should let their husbands fuck them." His speech was slurred, and he leaned even closer to kiss her.

"Fuck you!" She spared a brief thought that this was their first real fight, and then went to storm out of the room. He grabbed her by the wrist again, but this time she could not wrench free. His hand came up to plant a slap on her face.

"Don't swear you whore!" He spat in her face. She kicked him in the shin. He didn't flinch, and merely slapped her again before dropping her wrist. He stormed out of the room, and she stood there in shock. No one had ever hit her. Not once in her entire life had she been struck by a man. She had never thought that Larry would have it in him. Her wobbly legs carried her to the en suite bathroom to look at the damage.

On her right cheek, she could see the red beginning of what was sure to be a bruise. She'd read about this in Cosmo. She'd seen the afterschool specials. But she'd never thought she'd be the girl it happened to.

**AN: **Well it looks like some of you were spot on with your impressions of Larry. Please be kind and leave a review. I respond well to poking for updates if you want more. Also who doesn't love pressing that little button—it's good karma. (As a side note anonymous reviews are enabled)


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** For the first time in as long as I can remember today is not a make-up day so I was able to pound this out. Yay!

I have a potty-mouth sorry if that offends anyone (esp. in Hyde's POV). Anyway just remember this does end in a very Jackie/Hyde fashion it just takes a while. And thank you so much if you added it to your alerts/favorited/reviewed! It means a lot to me.

**Point Place. Late June (Hyde)**

He was alone for the first time since the wedding. After Forman had found him nearly comatose in the bathroom, none of his friends had seen it fit to let him alone for more than a minute. They all seemed to think that he was 'fragile.' They just all failed to understand that he had never been fragile, and that if they didn't stop acting like he was going to have a mental breakdown, he was going to have a fucking mental breakdown.

He sat in his chair; he watched The Price is Right; he got toasted; he got blasted. He did nothing differently than he had any other summer of his life. He drove the Camino; he jacked off to memories of Jackie (appreciating the irony of her name); he used his week of vacation the way God intended.

It was on the third day when they finally left him alone. Three days of nothing but candy-loving perverts and lovey-dovey Eric/Donna shit. He thought his head was about to explode—why the hell had W.B. given him this week off. This week of all weeks when everyone was in town because of the wedding, this week when Jackie was on her honeymoon doing whatever lovey-dovey shit Larry did with her, this week when there was a Price is Right fucking marathon and every radio station was playing "Love her Madly" stupid fucking Jim Morrison.

So, alone for the first time in over 72 hours, barring sleeping, he did what he did best. He lied to himself. Telling himself he didn't love her, had never loved her. Repeating again and again that Larry was good for her. That it was Larry she wanted now and not him. But the thing about lies was that they always came back to stick their feet up your ass.

**Cancun. Late June (Jackie)**

She didn't know what to do. Jackie had never felt so alone in her entire life. Not once, not even when her mom had run off to Mexico and her dad had gone to jail. The only way she had gotten through that was with the help of _him_, but there was no way in hell he would know about this. Her pride wouldn't allow it. _He _wasn't allowed to know about this—ever. Then it hit her, she would call Donna.

She picked up the hotel's phone and dialed the number of the Forman house, where Donna was staying for the week. She cradled the phone to her right ear conscious that she would have normally put it to her left ear, and would have now if it didn't brush against where he'd struck her. The phone rang five times before someone answered.

"Forman's," the voice had a deep, gravelly quality that she knew intimately.

"Steven," her voice came out softer than she'd meant to make it. It sounded like a plea.

He contemplated her use of his first name before offering in kind, "Jackie." His voice was very matter of fact and business-like drawing her from her own thoughts.

"Is Donna there?" Her tone returned to its normal state, all formality.

"No, so, trouble in paradise?" He smirked, and she could see it through the phone. The way his lips would curl just a little, how his eyes would regain some of their sparkle.

"No. How about Mrs. Forman?" Her tone was clipped, and response just a second too quick for his liking.

"They all went out. Just me and Bob Barker tonight. Is there something wrong?" His worry seemed genuine to her—like he cared.

"Nope. Just uh…just wanted to talk to Donna…about girl stuff."

"Ok, I'll tell her that you called. Have a good time fucking Lameass Larry." At that moment the line disconnected, she was left sitting on a bed in Mexico wondering what the hell she was doing.

**Point Place. Late June (Hyde)**

He did not think before he said it, and he knew, as soon as the words left his mouth, that he did not mean them. Just getting in the last word, the last burn, as if marrying a stripper over her wasn't enough.

If regrets were money, he would be the richest man on Earth, but before he could get into the really good angsting the gang returned from wherever they had been. "Donna, hey man, Jackie called."

Donna gave him that intense look he had come to associate with being worried over. She nodded a little to herself like she was satisfied with his mental state. "And _you _talked to her?"

"Yeah, she seemed upset. So, uh, call her."

He watched as Donna picked up the phone and dialed the number Jackie had written down before she had gotten on the plane. Listening as Donna tried to console her best friend, he felt a little bad. He heard only one side of the conversation, but from what he could gather, Larry had done something to make her cry. Larry was getting a fist to the face the minute they got home.

As Donna hung up the phone, she turned to him. "Dillhole! Whatever you said to her you made her cry, and then she wouldn't tell me what was really wrong. She just said something about those stupid movies we used to watch in health class." So…maybe no fist for Larry after all.

"She started it." He responded like a petulant child. "When she married the asshole."

"You started it when you married a stripper! I am so tired of listening to you two _bitch_. Get over it. You married different people. You started different lives—so either do something about it or stop acting like fucking two-year-olds." Her face was flushed with anger as she stared at him, but then it lost some of its fire and dropped to a near whisper. "Hyde we all love both of you, but you need to decide what you want. The gang can't deal with all of this shit. We're going to fall apart."

"What if I don't know what I want? Did you ever think of that Donna! Did you ever think that after Sam left, Jackie ran away too fast for me to do anything? None of us expected Larry. So get off your high-horse, you treated her like a piece of crap too." He met her challenge with his own.

"Before the wedding, she and I talked. She forgave me. I don't know why, but she did. We haven't been a single group since Eric left. Please, Hyde, don't make this harder than it has to be. Get over yourself. I don't care if you like it or not, but you need to be civil with Larry and Jackie or there won't be a basement crew. I don't think any of us are ready for that." She left storming out of the basement with a calm certainty and intercepting Eric, Fez, and Kelso where they were just coming in the door. "Let's leave Hyde alone guys. He has a lot to think about." So he was left alone again. With nothing but thoughts of Jackie.

**Cancun. Late June (Jackie)**

She must have started crying at some point within the last ten minutes because she could hear the sobs. Her body was shaking, her chest racked with inconsolable sobs, and her eyes red from crying when she heard the phone ring. Jackie didn't want to answer it, but after ten very insistent rings she did. "Jackie Bur—Sloan," her voice sounded hoarse, and she remembered to use her new surname.

"Wow, Jackie, you sound like death. What's wrong?" She could hear the genuine caring in Donna's voice but she didn't know what to say.

"Larry." Her new husband's name sufficed as an answer.

"What did he do? Did he forget to buy you flowers or something?"

"Donna, he," she couldn't bring herself to say it, couldn't admit that she'd let it happen, "Do you remember in health class when we watched that movie?"

"We watched a lot of movies. _A lot_."

"Well…" her voice trailed off. "It was nothing. I'm probably overreacting."

"Jackie, you were crying. You don't cry over nothing."

"Hyde was being an ass. That's why I was crying. Bye, Donna." And Jackie hung up before she could say anything she might regret.

So she hadn't told anyone—she would never tell anyone. It had only happened once and he was drunk.

**Later**

She heard a quiet knock at the door and a few seconds later her husband entered. She stayed curled on the bed studiously ignoring him as he turned the lights on in the dark room.

"Jackie, baby," she flinched at the sound of his voice, "I'm sorry. I got you something."

His hand touched her shoulder gently and she turned away from him. "Get away from me."

"Babe, it's something shiny, and we have a reservation tonight. " His voice was sickly sweet.

"I can't go out like this." She turned to face him throwing her swollen left cheek into stark contrast.

"I don't know what came over me. Just—here," he placed a small velvet box in her hand. She opened it curiosity getting the better of her. In the folds of silk, rested a pair of diamond earrings, "Two shiny things for two of the worst mistakes of my life." She had a brief sense of déjà vous recalling all of the times her father had tided her over with shiny present and promises he'd never kept.

"Thank you."

"The best for the best, Linnie Bear." She winced again at the use of her new nickname. She hated it when he called her 'Linnie Bear' no one had ever called her any variation of the latter part of Jacqueline, and she very much disliked it that he did.

"Larry, let's just stay in tonight. Maybe we can learn more about each other." She tried to make peace.

"Anything you want."

She lay in bed later that night and allowed herself to think of Steven for the first time in nearly three months. To really think about him, the person he'd become, the person he'd been. She thought of the sudden jolt she'd received as soon as she'd heard his voice on the other end of the phone line.

She knew in her heart that she should tell him what Larry had done—the Steven she had dated would have hopped onto the next plane to Cancun to kick his ass, but this new person, this new Hyde, had broken her heart, and she had hurt him. The look in his eyes at the wedding haunted her. He'd looked beaten beyond repair his eyes taking on that flinty hardness she had come to associate with her own features. If she had told him, it wouldn't have changed a damn thing. He would have probably laughed and told her she deserved it for being a bitch, but there was that little voice in the back of her head, that little inkling that maybe he still loved her.

She knew she still loved him, so maybe she deserved what she'd gotten. A fantasy life with a husband who bought her shiny things at the cost of Steven. She shouldn't care what it did to him, but the fucked up thing was she did. She cared too much, and it scared her. Scared her more than the anger Larry kept just beneath the surface, or the way she'd merely accepted diamonds as an apology for the most unforgivable thing that had ever happened to her.

**Point Place. Early July (Hyde)**

This was the day Jackie came back from her honeymoon with The Ass. He tired to treat it like any normal day in July. He went to the store for the first time in a week, sorted some records, and listened to some of the new arrivals. He even tried to stay late to avoid what was sure to be an awkward situation.

It was the last day the entire gang was in town before they headed back to their lives outside of Point Place, the last day before the only other basement kid left was Jackie( in his mind her husband would never be part of the basement gang, just like Sam and Randy before him.) At six, he made his way to the Camino, and slowly traveled back to his basement abode. Donna's dressing down about acceptance ringing in his ears.

He was the last to arrive, and they were all gathered around the TV watching something with minimal interest. Donna and Eric shared the couch; Fez was perched atop the Deepfreeze; Kelso occupied the lawn chair, and Larry, with Jackie on his lap, was seated in Hyde's chair. Everyone looked at Hyde to see what he'd do about it. Jackie noticed his presence and immediately jumped up. "Steven!" She took a quick bound across the basement and kissed his cheek. "You're back." He wondered if Donna had talked to her as well because Jackie hadn't been this bubbly since before Sam.

She smiled that thousand watt smile of hers, but he couldn't help but think of the last time she had kissed him when she was with someone else—his eighteenth birthday. He could see Larry's knuckles stand white against his knee. Jackie scampered back to her husband and grabbed his hand. She pulled him up, and Larry looked at her oddly, "We're in Hyde's chair," she said as way of explanation.

"Well we wouldn't want to upset Hyde." There was something in the way Larry looked at Jackie that made him uncomfortable—something too possessive about the way his fingers dug into her hip as he said those words. "No man, that's cool. I'll just sit on the Deepfreeze." Jackie looked at him, concerned for his well being.

"But where will Fez sit?" The foreigner referred to himself in the third person.

"You get the stool."

"Ai! Why do I always get the stool?" The question went was rhetorical. After Fez had settled on the stool, and Hyde was seated on the Deepfreeze he turned to the gang.

"So what are we doing?"

"Jackie was telling us about their honeymoon, and the earrings Larry got her." Donna looked at Eric, "Why don't you ever get me shiny things?"

"Because you told me that 'physical trinkets are demeaning to you as a modern woman.'"

"Yeah, Eric," Larry chimed in, "Don't you know that shiny things are always a smash hit."

Hyde saw Jackie's face as he said those words. Her face contorted into something of a smirk and her hand drifted gently to brush her left cheek. He thought he could see a slight shadow just under the region she had touched. But no, he was just being paranoid there was no way Larry had hit her, and if he had…

Jackie should know that Hyde would kick the ass of anyone who thought they could touch her like that. He shouldn't be thinking that though, Jackie wasn't his to protect, and Larry seemed harmless enough.

He was probably just overreacting. _Zen, man, think Zen. You don't love her. You can't love her. You're wrong. Larry is an ok guy. He would never hit a chick._ So the night continued and he had to sit and make nice with the girl he couldn't love and her new husband.

**AN:** So leave a review get cyber cookies. Sounds like a good deal to me. Plus who doesn't love checking her email to see that little "review" in the subject line. I know I live for it. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** This was quite a haul, but I did it! Thanks so much to everyone who left a review for any of the previous chapters you rock my pink, fuzzy socks.

So actual notes on the story: I am in the process of re-watching season 8 and have decided to basically ignore the character decomposition that occurred. This means that the Jackie and Hyde I am writing are more emotionally similar to the Jackie and Hyde of season 7. You know the ones we fell in love with because they were mature and had developed over the course of the show. In my opinion (and that of many other zennies) season 8 was a piece of crap that was untrue to the characters. Anyway after that rant…please enjoy.

**Point Place. June 1978. (Jackie)**

_ They sat and watched The Price is Right for what seemed like the thousandth time in a week. The basement was eerily quiet, and it scared her just the smallest bit. It made her think of the future—her Michael-less future, which only depressed her further. No Donna, No Kelso, Fez spent most of his time at summer Bible study with his host parents, and Eric spent all of his waking hours in the upstairs bathroom._

_ It was the summer before her junior year, and somehow she had ended up here. Sitting in a dank basement, on a ratty couch, watching old ladies flirt with Bob Barker. She needed something to distract her from this summer. Something to take away the dull ache that had plagued her since she'd been abandoned for blonde, Californian whores._

_ In her mind, she realized that they were both talking, but she was too busy eyeing him up. Remembering that kiss last year—the Veteran's Day Miracle—but now they were kissing again, and it was new and old at the same time. It relieved the tension in her for a brief moment before she pulled away, but she didn't let the separation last because he might be the best damn kisser ever. That was how it started—a bored summer in a boring world—with the hottest fucking kiss she had ever received._

**Point Place. July 8, 1980. 4:34 PM.**

Donna was somewhere upstairs packing for the return journey to Madison with Eric later that day. Both of them were enrolled for the fall semester at UW, and Jackie sat in the basement just like always. Except she was in Larry's arms and not Steven's, but she was happy about it. She loved Larry even though the memory of that kiss and the hundreds that followed still haunted her. He used to be so sweet when he kissed her.

Lost in the memories that were slowly becoming nightmares she barely heard Larry's whispered question. "What are we doing here? No one is even down here with us."

"Oh, they're coming. Michael and Fez are at the water tower polishing off a six-pack. Eric and Donna are doing it in his old room and pretending to pack. Steven'll probably be late though he wanted to buy a bag as a farewell gift."

"Wait a bag of what?" He pulled back from the spot on her neck he had been kissing to look at her. She froze. _Shit_. She hadn't told Larry that particular facet of basement life yet.

"Ummm…"

"So that's what you do down here? That's the big secret? You all smoke up!" He stood from where he had been next to her on the couch. "I thought you were smarter than that Jackie."

"We're all smart about it. We don't drive or anything; we just stay in the basement and talk." Jackie tried to explain it to her husband, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

"I'm not staying her to get high with a bunch of _kids_, and you shouldn't either. We're adults; we have more important things to do."

"Larry, baby, sit down. You don't have to do anything you don't want. Just," she hesitated for a brief moment remembering his anger from the previous night.

**Previous Night.**

_ They walked out of the basement together smiling like fools. He led her to the car by her hand and when she reached for the door he stopped her and turned her towards him. She was trapped between the car and his body. Lowering his head to cut down on the considerable height difference he whispered into her ear. "Why did you kiss him?"_

_ Lost in the smell of Larry and the haze of anger she could feel permeating from his skin she shrugged. He made her feel like a child that needed to be scolded._

_ "A shrug? You kiss your ex-boyfriend and make me move for him. All I get is a shrug? That's fucking great!" He leaned away from her and began to move to the driver's side._

_ "Wait. You deserve more than a shrug." She took a breath and gathered her courage. "What Steven and I had is…history. I love you. You know that."_

_ "How can I know that if you still want him!" Larry slammed his fist just beside her head and against the glass of the car's window. "You can't tell me you don't want him. I can see it every time you look at him." Still invading her personal space she felt trapped by the cage his arms had created around her. "You're a slut."_

_ "Maybe I do still have feelings for Steven, but I married you." Her voice began to fade, "I chose you," and the tears started to fall._

_ "Oh shit. I made you cry. I promised I'd never make you cry." And just like that he was her loving husband again. _

**Present.**

"Just stay for now. We can make-out on the couch and then leave once Steven gets here." She nodded to herself satisfied with her plan. He sat down next to her again and sighed.

"Why do you call him Steven now? You used to call him Hyde."

"Because I want him to be Steven. Look it's nothing. I just want him to be happy—find someone, fall in love—like I did." She smiled at him and began to kiss his neck. "Hyde," she said between kisses, "is an ass, and Steven" she moved to his chin, "isn't." Larry leaned up and pushed her away

"I can't do this, Jackie, not right now. I don't want to make-out while talking about your ex's multiple personalities."

"Fine, I won't talk about Steven. Just kiss me already." She leaned forward playfully and puckered her lips waiting for a kiss that never came. She opened the eyes that had been closed waiting for the bliss of kissing and was left lacking. He had stood and was making his way towards the door.

"I need to go somewhere, before I do something I'll regret. I'll see you at the apartment later." Simple as that. She was left alone feeling rejected.

**5:26**

Jackie was rarely one to drink in excess. In fact, she didn't normally drink much at all. It was horrible for her complexion and made her do unladylike things, but tonight she had found the exception to the rule (and Kitty's emergency bottle of laundry Jack). She thought that this might be what her friends called "shitfaced." This wonderful weightless, buzzy feeling.

It would be perfect if she wasn't also clinically depressed because her limbs were weightless but there was a pressure in her chest. A sinking feeling she had come to associate with men and the horrendous things they did to her heart.

The door swung open to reveal her curly-haired almost nemesis. He threw the brown paper bag on the wagon-wheel table and did his best to avoid eye contact.

"What happened to you husband?" He asked as he walked to the deepfreeze and grabbed a pop.

"Left." Her reply came out slurred.

"And Eric and Donna?"

"Sex."

"Kelso and Fez?"

"Beer. Water tower."

"Either the batteries that power your mouth died, or you're drunk." He concluded.

"Option two dumbass." Her reply would have been considered bitchy at best. "I found Mrs. Forman's bottle of emergency Jack after Larry left," she picked up her arm to look at her watch, "about an hour ago."

"You got this drunk in an hour? You are such a lightweight." He teased her, and she groaned.

"When I throw-up in half an hour, I'll make sure to aim at you. Ugh,"she curled up in a ball on her side, "this isn't fun drunk. This is bad drunk."

**(Hyde)**

"How much did you drink?" He would never admit it, but he was the tiniest bit concerned for the child-sized brunette.

"Enough." Came the grumbled reply. "I hate stupid Jackie Daniels, and stupid Larry."

"What did Mr. Perfect do this time?" What the hell was he doing? Talking to her about the man he hated. He shouldn't be here doing this. She was married. It was that poor bastard's job to deal with this shit now.

"Well… he doesn't approve of circular activities and he doesn't like you."

"And you're mad at him because he doesn't like me?" Hyde tried to make sense of her drunken slurs.

"No, I'm mad because he doesn't like that I want you to be Steven." She yawned, and he tried to ignore how innocent it made her look.

"Jackie, I'm always Steven. I've never not been Steven." She always confused him like this saying things that didn't make any sense.

"Nuh-uh sometimes you're Hyde. Hyde is an ass. _Steven_ is nice." He wanted to tell her that she wasn't making sense. He wanted to, but he also heard that ring of truth in her words.

"Ok. I'm cutting you off." She offered him the offending bottle of whiskey. "You drank a quarter of a fifth of whiskey?" He queried. "Well done."

"You talk loud." She rolled over so that her back was to him.

"Take a nap. You're bitchy when you're drunk." He tried to stop talking there, but her thoughts about his two personalities got the best of him. "I'll wake you up and make some coffee to try and sober you up before the circle."

"Thanks, Steven." And there it was—she'd called him Steven. He should say something, but he had never been one for words so he nodded knowing full well that she couldn't see the simple gesture.

Walking up the stairs he wondered what the hell he was doing getting involved with Jackie again. Bad things happened when he was nice to her, but who the fuck really cared about that—as long as the group stayed together it shouldn't matter.

**7:16 PM**

In the kitchen, he began to rummage in the cupboards looking for the coffee and filters necessary to make Jackie some coffee. He heard the gentle click of high heels behind him. "Steven, what are you looking for," Mrs. Forman asked pushing his body away from the open drawer with hers.

"Jackie got into your…uh…she needs coffee." He decided the simplest truth would suffice for now.

She studied him before laughing her laugh. "Well here, I'll make a pot right now," and she set about making a pot of coffee while talking to him about something unimportant.

This was the perfect moment, and he'd been thinking about it for a while so he bit the bullet and interrupted her prattling. "Mrs. Forman, there's something I need to talk to you about."

She stopped mid-sentence and looked at him expectantly. "Did you get a girl pregnant," her voice was completely serious and he couldn't help but wince at the deadpan way in which she had assumed it, and true he'd been something of a man-whore in the last six months, but to have the woman he considered a mother think he would do something so thoughtless…well it was time he grew up.

"No," he wanted to say something biting but refrained, "I'm moving out." He had expected protesting, maybe yelling. He had not expected the calm resolve on her sweet face, or the tears that quickly followed.

"My last baaaaaby," she sobbed out and then lunged at his chest. "I know you have to do it, but…" her voice trailed off as she cried into his favorite Rolling Stones shirt. Well as far as these things went it could have gone worse. He would tell her tomorrow that he already had an apartment lined up. He doubted she could take the double shock in one day.

**(Jackie) 7:24**

She was awoken by someone screaming "Satan!" very loudly in her right ear. She pulled her hand out from where it was tucked under her face and proceeded to give Eric, the sure culprit of the yelling, the bird. Trying to maintain that warm post-nap feeling she snuggled deeper into the couch and heard her knight-in-band-shirt-armor defend her.

"The skinny dillhole strikes again," Hyde countered.

"Did you see that? _Jackie _just totally flipped me off. What is wrong with this world?" She smiled a little into the crook of her arm. There was something so nice about the state between asleep and awake.

"It's probably because she's still a little drunk and a little hung-over at the same time."

"Yeah, well, having her asleep on my couch sans husband, flipping me off, has just thrown off Earth's orbit—and what the hell is in your hands?" She could picture Eric's expression, but still refused to open her eyes on principal.

After a few seconds of silence, Hyde answered. "I made her coffee." She could hear the way he gritted his teeth against the words sure of Eric's snarky response that was too come.

"Did the aliens come when I was gone or what? First you two can't stand to be in the same room and now you're making her coffee! She's the Devil!"

"I'm done with this conversation. Ask Donna about it if you really have to, but things changed a lot without you here." Hearing the shuffle of his boots across the concrete she was prepared for him to say something to wake her. She was not prepared for him to bend as close as he possible could to her and whispering into her ear. "I know you're awake." She could hear the smirk in his voice just the same as always. That arrogant extra bit it added to the cadence of his speech.

She rolled over and stretched dramatically batting her eyelashes at Eric as a joke. "So you skinny, nap-ruining dillhole, where is everyone else?" She took the proffered coffee from Steven and proceeded to glare at the reason for her discontent.

"Kelso challenged Donna to some one-on-one. They'll be down soon." She drank her coffee, Steven brooded, Eric sat there acting like the twitchy twitcher he'd always been. It felt just like old times.

**Circle 7:30**

HYDE: So guys, I'm moving out!.

ERIC: (laughing) I just realized. That you still live in my parent's basement.

HYDE: (Punches Eric) Shut up! Your mom totally cried on me man

KELSO: Yeah (goofy grin) she cried _under_ me once.

DONNA: Why do you always go there Kelso?

KELSO: I don't have to (pause) but she begs for it. (gets pelted with a bag of chips and an album) I can't help it that Eric's mother is the MILF-iest MILF ever.

FEZ: Stop talking about Ms. Kitty that way (furtive look) it gives me _needs_.

HYDE: Dude, I thought you like dudes…woah man that's like a burn on Eric's mom.

JACKIE: (cackling) You—you—you said MOM!

ERIC: How is she toasted already?

JACKIE: (suddenly serious) I love toast. Love… hmmm… I love ALL of you! And Larry!

DONNA: So… I've heard that there are these people in China with like super-small feet…

**Driveway 9:02 (Jackie)**

Donna was stooping low to hug Jackie and both women were crying. Jackie pulled away and tried to dry her tears. "Call me, Donna, and you better visit once a month. It's just not the same without all of us."

"I will, and you better keep me posted on the joys of married life." They giggled together for the billionth time since the first full-group circle in nearly a year. Donna finally lowered her frame into the Vista Cruiser and she and Eric drove away to their new life in Madison. She felt his presence behind her before she heard him speak.

"Do you—I guess—would you like to sleep in the basement?"

**(Hyde)**

What the hell was he doing? Asking a married woman to spend the night away from her husband! Asking Jackie fucking Burckhardt to stay the night! And he was being all nervous about it too like some teenager who was scared shitless. He felt the need to quantify his offer. "You're too," he gestured to her, "to drive, and I'm too," he gestured to himself, "to drive, and I don't want you to walk to wherever the hell it is you're staying." His excuses sounded weak even to his own ears.

But to his surprise she just nodded, "I think that'd be great." And she flounced down the steps and back into his heart and life forever. One night that would change the course of everything.

**AN:** I did my job now you get to do yours. Review, review, review! They are what inspire me to write more for this story. Also I would like to take this opportunity to direct you to my new story "Dolled Up Zen" which is pointless JH smut because…do I even need a reason? And also because this is an angst fest and well who doesn't want JH smut to liven up their day. (Also please nothing too harsh on my circle I realize it sucks ass but it was either sucky circle or no update.)


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** You can thank SingMeALoveStory for this update. After a few very nice PMs/Reviews, I started to write this again. Jackie and Hyde are acting very strangely in my head one second they want to fuck each other's brains out and the next they're fighting like cats and dogs. I wrote and rewrote and edited and re-edited this chapter but it still came out like this so I just decided to go with it. Please remember that this stuff has to happen for the ending to be happy.

Also, holy crap 27 people have this story on alert! That's freakin' awesome! If only all of you left a review… (yeah that was a low blow, sorry, 'bout that) thanks for your support guys. :)

Warning: Lots (and I mean a whole bunch) of swearing in this one.

**Basement 9:04. (Jackie)**

They walked back down the basement stairs together still riding the same high that came from being part of a group. She hadn't gotten why Michael loved his friends so much until she had been given the chance to know them, and now she wouldn't change it for anything. She wasn't herself when she was away from the basement. He opened the door for her and gestured for her to go in, and by the time they were both inside of the basement the amicable silence had become awkward. She shrugged trying to push of the feeling of guilt that was beginning to rise. "I better call Larry. I told him I would be home. I—I don't want him to worry."

He stopped her by clearing his throat. "Jackie, he doesn't have to worry. This," he gestured between them, "me asking you to stay. It doesn't mean anything. We're over—we've been over for a long time."

"If you don't want me to stay, I'll tell him to pick me up," her face became cold. "That just—that wasn't why I thought he would worry!" Her voice rose in pitch as the color in her cheeks flared. "He cares about _me_ Hyde. He knows that I would never fuck around on him and if that's what you thought I wanted then you're a bigger ass than I thought you were."

"Damn it, Jackie, don't do this! Don't make this about what an ass I am, I know it alright, but this time I was just, hell I don't know what I was trying to do. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. Fuck," he brought his hands to his face and rubbed it feeling the beginnings of a beard—he hadn't shaved in two or three days. "We're both too fucked-up to do this right now. Just go call your husband, and I'll get you some blankets. You can sleep on the couch, and then we can talk about this shit tomorrow." Jackie stared at him for a moment shocked at the rawness in his voice, the way his eyes bore into her as he spoke—he had just promised her the closure they'd never gotten. She nodded and then turned to barrel up the steps.

She called her new apartment three times, each time getting her own voice saying, _You've reached Jackie and Larry. We're off busy being fabulous. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you when we can._ She left a message on the off chance that he would hear it, and stood to make her way back down to the basement stopping only to raid Mrs. Forman's cabinet looking for the Kahlua that she knew resided within. It was another of those 'what the hell' moments that she always had when she was with Steven. He made her reckless.

She walked back down the steps and into a scene she thought she'd never see: Steven being domestic and making her a makeshift bed on the ratty old couch. She allowed herself a small smirk before making her presence known by clearing her throat. His voice was gruff as he straightened himself from where he was bent over the couch. He threw her a shirt and pair of old sweats. "Since you don't have anything to sleep in, I figured you could wear some of my old stuff—unless you want to wear something of Laurie's…" his voice trailed off at the end of his statement and he looked in her eyes almost like he was seeking approval.

"No, these will work fine." She looked at the clothes in her hand and was a little shocked to see the familiar black Led Zeppelin shirt. "Ummm, I'll just change in your room then. Here," she handed him the bottle of liquor, "I figured that we could both use some more," she made a face, "loosening. Sorry about my, uh, bitchiness earlier. I don't do it on purpose. It's like a reflex—sort of like Zen."

He laughed with a little humor, "We both have some issues. Now get changed I don't want to drink myself _loose_ alone."

She reached across the distance and smacked his shoulder, "Pig," but the insult was lightened by the smile that graced her lips.

By the time she returned from the back bedroom he had found two cups and was pouring the brown elixir into them. He held a cup out to her and she took a contemplative sip. She sat on the couch beside him and leaned against the far armrest sighing in a way that indicated she wanted him to start a conversation. Hyde leaned back against the worn piece of furniture, and continued into the silence refusing to take her bait. Ten minutes later he finished his cup and poured both of them another measure.

She sighed again, this time more theatrically, and turned her head in that dramatic way to look at him. Continuing to ignore her he stared straight ahead still refusing to talk to her in their shared state of inebriation, drunk conversations always lead to bad things. Finally she spoke, "Ste—ven," her voice hit pitches that only dogs should be able to hear.

"That's my name," he snarked at her.

"Ugh, what the hell is wrong with you? First you're all nice and you hit Eric for me, then you ask me to stay, and now you're being an ass. I just don't get men. They can be so nice and then—POW! They're being an asshat." Her voice came slower with the addition of alcohol, and his brain was becoming too foggy to notice the way she cringed at her own words.

"Is that all men or just me? I'm sure you're precious Larry is just the sweetest guy on the damn Earth." He leaned forward from his reclined position to refill his empty plastic cup after he was done she took the bottle from him and finished it in a swig. They were facing each other on the couch now closer than they'd been since that dance at her wedding.

"And now you're pissed off. That's what it comes down to. You're jealous that I moved on. You have no _fucking_ clue. Do you know what it did to me to see you with that _skank?" _Her voice began to quiver with tears but she charged on. "You said it yourself. There's nothing between us. We're friends, and you need to stop acting like an asshole to my _husband._ You had your chance."

"That's not what this is about, Jackie. God, it always has to be about you doesn't it? Just get this through your thick cheerleader skull: I don't love you, maybe I never did love you. Whatever you let Larry do to you is none of my concern. Don't you remember? This is how I act. This isn't any different than any other day of my life." His Zen was lost and back in the same moment when he realized it would do no good to drag the Ass into this.

"If that's the truth, then who the _fuck_ was I dating? You weren't always like this. We had a chance and we both messed up, and now we're this." Her tears turned into pitiful sniffles, "I hope you're happy." She began to sob in earnest. "I should just go home to Larry. We always fuck up, and we always end up getting hurt." She stood to leave but was stopped by his voice.

"Jackie, don't leave. I—we're drunk and probably still a little stoned. Just wait for the morning when we're both sober. Fuck, you're right we always mess up. We can talk about it in the morning when we're more sensible. I, God, I'm drunk, but I think we could…work it out.'" She stared at him in shock.

"You did it again," at his look of utter confusion she continued, "Just when I give up Steven shines through. I'm so tired of this bullshit I need something _stable_ and we both know that's not something you could ever give me. One second you tell me you never loved me and the next you're trying to get back together! I'm married. It's so much more complicated than talking about it."

"That wasn't what I meant. Christ, I know you're married. I think about it every damn day. I just want to be friends with you again."

**10:06 (Hyde)**

He couldn't believe what he'd just said. Friends? With the only girl he'd ever really loved. He was in way over his head if he thought that they could just be friends, but at the same time he knew that he had almost lost her forever. This was his last chance.

"Friends? We've never been friends before." She sat back down on the couch beside him.

"Yeah, after…Sam we just kind of, didn't talk. I missed talking to you." He hated the way alcohol loosened his usually gruff tongue.

"I missed talking to you, but you hurt me so much. You couldn't marry me, but you went off and married a stripper." Jackie had always known how to make him feel bad, and now was no exception.

If there was ever a time for Zen it was now, "It worked out in the end. You ran off and met the man of your dreams. It never would have worked out between us, Doll." He threw in her nickname as a small tease taking some fun in the tense situation.

"We didn't wait for the morning to talk about it, and I'm glad." She mused.

"Huh, you're right, and I really didn't want to do this drunk."

"Does this mean we're friends now? I mean we finally admitted that we sucked as a couple."

"I think so." She held out her hand and they shook on it. "Now I am going to bed. See you in the morning." He stood from the couch and swayed a little before making his way to his bedroom wondering how the hell that had just happened. He had just gone from the bastard who destroyed her to her friend.

**July 9, 1980. 2:12 (Jackie)**

She heard the door slam against the cinderblock wall as it jolted her out of her light slumber. The night was dark and even the open door afforded them little light. She heard heavy breaths and some fumbling around before the plastic click of the light switch being flipped. Her eyes were accosted with blinding light and the image of Larry. He was stumbling about the basement blindly, and she could only assume, looking for her.

His eyes alighted on her prone form, and locked with her's. "You didn't come home."

"I called. You didn't answer." He stomped across the room, to her side, stared at her.

"You had me worried sick. I went out to the bar and when I got home the apartment was empty."

"Sorry about that. When we finished, it was late and Steven didn't want me to walk home."

"Wait _Steven _was the reason you stayed. That's it I'm taking you home." He grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip and pulled her up from under her blankets. "You're wearing his clothes," Larry managed to grind out.

"What, did you expect me to sleep in my underwear?"

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up!" It was then that she could smell the Jagermeister on his breath. "You're nothing but a whore."

Her voice was very quiet. "Never call me a whore again. Steven's asleep in the back bedroom and, unless you want me to wake him, I suggest you leave."

"Not unless you come with me. I'm not leaving you alone with him. He's not good for you. We all know I'm better for you." Larry dropped his grip in her arm.

"He never hit me. Not once." Her voice was all venom.

At her words of defiance, he brought a hand up and slapped her. "So you bring that up. Bitch."

"Ste—" she began to scream but he took the hand that had just hit her and covered her mouth. "I told you to shut up. Now we're going home," and he picked her up and carried her out of the basement.

**2:21**

To say the drive to their apartment was awkward would be to underestimate the matter dramatically. She sat as far away from him as possible seemingly in a stupor. He broke the silence by putting a hand on her knee and speaking, "Linnie-bear I'm so sorry about that." She shrugged his hand away and refused to answer. He continued, "You just had me so worried."

"That's no reason to call me a whore. We've been married for two weeks, and I've learned more about you in these 14 days than the entire time we were in Buffalo, and I don't know if I like it."

"We love each other. The rest will work itself out."

"You _hit_ me. How will that work out?"

"It will work fine if you keep your damn mouth shut."

"I'm not that girl. I'm Jackie Burkhart."

"Hate to burst your bubble sweetheart, but you're Jackie Sloan now." He pulled the car to a stop and got out opening her door for her. "Promise me something, Jackie. You'll stay away from the basement?"

"I can't do that. Steven would worry."

"You need to worry less about Steven and start worrying more about me. I'll talk to Steven for you." They began to walk up the stairs to the apartment that they had rented only a few short days ago.

"I can't let you take him from me." Her voice was strong with resolve. "We're finally becoming friends."

"What was that?" He unlocked their door and led her into the darkened entrance.

"I'm going to keep going to the basement, and I'm going to keep being friends with Steven."

"No, you're not."

"Yes I am!" Again he brought his hand around but this time it was curled into a fist and landed squarely against her ribs—he had a great right hook. She felt the air leave her lungs and gasped for breath as she was pushed to the ground.

"You won't talk about him anymore, and you won't see him!"

"Larry, why can't you get it through your thick head? He's no threat." A foot was swung and hit her in the ribs.

"I'm tired of your excuses. You can sleep on the couch." He stumbled off in the direction of their bedroom to leave her sobbing on the ground in a tremendous amount of pain. Her face burned with shame because she'd let it happen again.

She had become someone's punching bag—only this time it was physical instead of purely emotional. This had to end. She tried to move to the couch but collapsed onto the ground again too tired to bother. After another five minutes, she had managed to maneuver herself onto the couch.

She could barely sleep through the dull throbbing that had erupted throughout her body, but she managed a fitful state of unconsciousness promising herself that in the morning she would visit Mrs. Forman, and the farce would be played out.

**2:17 Hyde**

He awoke uncharacteristically early to the slamming of the basement door. He crawled out of his room and into the main room of the basement thinking there might be something wrong with Jackie. The sight that greeted his eyes was not the happiest: blankets strewn about, her things gone, and the former cheerleader, herself, missing. He came to the only logical conclusion. She had left him again—run home to her husband because she had finally realized what a fuck-up he was. _Poetic irony_ he thought _I finally _want_ her and she runs off. _Hyde just sighed and walked back into his room to sleep until the next thing she decided to do to him.

**AN:** Will Larry ever be less of an ass? Will Hyde ever find out? When will Jackie tell someone? Who will she tell? Why Buffalo?

(The answers in order: Probably not. Yes. Soon. At some point everyone will know. It was far away.)

So that was my interpretation of questions you might have… do you have any actual questions? I am very willing to answer them you just have to leave a review. :)

Also let me boot you over to Dolled-Up Zen—go on you know you want to. Who doesn't love JH smut?


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **And our lesson today class is…even given some extra time I will wait until the last possible minute to finish a given task. Also, I respond well to prodding.

**July 9, 1980. 9:21 (Jackie)**

Getting ready had been hell—waiting for him to leave so that she wouldn't have to face him, and then having to peel off Steven's loose-fitting t-shirt before she could step into the scalding shower. She was fairly certain that Larry had broken at least once rib during his latest rampage. The painful breathing was one clue, and the techno-colored bruises that were blossoming just below her left breast were another. She scrubbed until the delicate flesh could take no more, and she was nearly in tears. In all reality, she probably was in tears. It was hard to tell through all of the water.

She couldn't stop feeling dirty—like somehow she was the slut her husband, hell _everyone_, accused her of being.

She got out of the shower determined to make it to the Forman's without giving in to the urge to cry. Partially because she needed to be strong and partially because she knew her ribs couldn't take the stress. Jackie chose the comfiest outfit she could find and wasted no time on her hair or make-up opting instead to throw her raven locks into a quick ponytail.

Leaving the apartment complex she unlocked her car, the Firebird her daddy had gotten her for her sweet sixteen, and steeled herself for what she wasn't sure would happen. Last night her resolve to tell Mrs. Forman had been so strong, but now she was wavering. If Larry was hanging around his ex, she would have gotten jealous, but that was still no excuse. And he only did it because he was drunk, but he drinks a lot. At the very least, she could tell the affable nurse that she'd fallen down the steps because her ribs were starting to throb mercilessly.

**July 9, 1980. 10:15 (Hyde)**

He was awoken by a scream, and not just any scream. It was a scream he'd come to know very personally from a voice that had caused him both equal amounts of pain and pleasure. Her scream made him think of the not-so-nice things he'd heard her say in the heat of the moment. Like the last time they'd gotten back together. She had been so damn vocal—making everything so guttural and—his train of thought was cut off when he heard another noise from above.

Jackie was in pain upstairs and all he could think of was how she sounded during sex—he was so fucked up. So he did what Hydes did best and blamed the alcohol before doing what Hydes never did and getting up to check on what was making his former lover sound like a wounded animal.

The sight that greeted him should have been happy. Jackie in nothing but her bra and sweats sitting on the Forman's kitchen table—he had to admit it had been a fantasy of his for a long time, at least until they'd all caught Forman and Donna. But what should have been a pervy memory to be cherished was ruined by her marked skin. Mrs. Forman was adjusting some bandages around her mid-section but Hyde could see the bruises that marred the perfect skin on her ribs and some of her upper arm. She let out another whimper as Mrs. Forman tightened the bandage further.

He didn't recognize his own voice until after he'd spoken, "Jackie, what the hell happened?" Both women jumped and Jackie groaned when she jolted her ribs.

"Fell down the steps." She said through gritted teeth. "Larry came to get me last night, and since I was still drunk I fell down a flight of steps."

"Why didn't you go to the emergency room?"

"You know I asked her the very same question. Now, Jackie, dear hold still, I need to get these taped on, and I still think you need to see your family practitioner to get an x-ray. From what I could tell, you've got two fractured ribs—nothing too serious, but you need to take it easy for the next six weeks. Oh and I can give you some painkillers. Just don't tell anyone where you got them—ah ha ha ha ha." She laughed in her own nervous way.

"I didn't go to the ER because it was too late. I knew Mrs. Forman could fix me up in the morning." He could hear the pain in Jackie's voice and resisted the urge to wince. Something about this situation seemed fishy to him, and his suspicions centered around the bruises on her arms that looked distinctly hand-shaped. He could feel the rage begin to bubble just below his sternum.

"Ok, Jackie, you're all bandaged up. Throw your shirt on and I'll make you some breakfast to take my pills with. You shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach or whooooo. You're high as a kite." She laughed again. "Jackie go ahead down to the basement for a minute while I talk to Steven." Mrs. Forman gave him a very pointed look.

"Ok Mrs. Forman thanks again." Jackie hopped off of the table and pulled on her sweatshirt before leaving the kitchen.

He watched as his surrogate mother puttered around the kitchen gathering the things she would need to create breakfast. "You wanted to talk." Mornings always made him gruffer than usual.

"Get the eggs, please." He acquiesced grabbing the carton from the fridge. "Crack five into the bowl and beat them please." He continued with his appointed task knowing that she would talk when she was ready. "What happened last night, Steven?"

"After everyone left, Jackie and I hung out in the basement. I woke up around two to the door being slammed and she was gone." He added a splash of milk to the eggs.

"She didn't fall down the steps." The deadness in Mrs. Forman's tone made his heart skip a beat. "I know that I shouldn't conjecture, but the places where her ribs are broken and the bruising on her skin…"

"The bastard hit her. I knew it, damn it!" He stopped beating the eggs and began to pace.

"Steven, I realize that you and Jackie haven't really been getting along lately, but I know that you loved each other. You're all that she has left, and she won't take kindly to me trying to talk about it. You've been there. You can help her." Funny, up until two seconds ago he'd thought that no one knew about that.

"What are you talking about?" Zen was his only defense now, and he lost track of his anger thinking only about keeping his own secrets.

"We've known about what your mother…did…used to do. She stopped when you got older and bigger, but you always had a safe place to go when things got rough." He had never wanted to have that particular conversation and luckily she didn't seem to really want to hash it all out either.

"My mom getting drunk and hitting me has nothing to do with Jackie's Mr. Perfect." He set his jaw and then thought about the purple marks that laced across her flawless skin. "I'm going to kick his ass."

"No, you're not. You are going to go downstairs and talk to Jackie. She needs to know that she will always have a place to come."

"You want me to tell Jackie that she can come here if the asshole beats her, but you don't want me to go out and knock some sense into him?"

"We both know that wouldn't solve anything." Her words held a ring of truth and he restrained his biting comment. "Now go talk to her."

He thought of her refusal of help when her father had gone to jail, "She'll never admit to anything. Jackie's not like that. She won't tell anyone that anything's wrong, and coming here would be admitting that something was wrong."

"Go talk to her right now mister. She's always listened to you."

"Fine, but just know," he pointed at her, "if it was anyone else, I wouldn't do it."

"Just like Red, You're a big softy." He sighed and left the kitchen to talk to the woman that he knew was ailing.

**Basement. 10:30 (Hyde)**

Jackie was sitting on his chair rigidly, clasping her side, and groaning. "Jackie."

"Don't say it, Steven; I know I'm an idiot for falling down the steps." He shook his head mostly for his own benefit.

"That's not what Mrs. Forman said." He moved to sit on the couch beside her and reached a tentative hand out to pat her on the shoulder. "Do you know why I spent so much time here as a kid?"

"You didn't want to spend time with your 'uncles' or your drunk mother?" Much like himself her best way of defense lied in her biting sarcasm.

"Good one, but no," he prepared himself to speak the next words knowing that they wouldn't come easily, "Edna used to hit me. She would blow our grocery money, get blasted, and then hit me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jackie wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Mrs. Forman talked to me, and she doesn't think you fell down the steps."

He saw her face pale. "Oh really, what does she think happened to me, and why the hell do you care?"

"He hit you." Steven Hyde had always been a man of few words. He just hoped he had chosen the right ones. "He's an arrogant bastard, and he hit you, and he doesn't deserve you. I've been there, Jacks. So you need to trust me."

"What the hell do you know?" She shrugged his hand off of her. "Up until my wedding you didn't give damn about me, and suddenly you're accusing my husband of—of—you're the bastard! Do you know that Hyde? You got me drunk so I fell down the steps and you're trying to blame Larry for something that is your fault."

"It's no one's fault but his. You're going to deny it, but we both know what happened—the only reason I haven't beaten him to a pulp yet is because Mrs. Forman wanted me to talk to you."

"It's not his fault." At that, he felt something he didn't expect. Sympathy for Jackie had overtaken the rage for The Ass.

**(Jackie)**

Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears.

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't your fault. You can't blame yourself for what he did to you." He placed a commiserating hand on her knee.

"Stop saying that! He didn't do anything, and if you even try to hurt him I'll never talk to you again." It was funny how the words kept coming to defend him—even if the very things that Steven was saying were all too true.

"Fine, Jackie, believe what you want to believe. Just know that you have friends, and as long as you have friends there is somewhere safe that you can go. Also, next time I see Larry he's getting a fist to the face. I don't care if you never talk to me again. It's what he deserves."

"Kids Breakfast!" Came the call that ended what had become an uncomfortable silence.

**AN:** I feel a little like a villain twirling her mustache while you sit there waiting for an update…I think that the next few chapters are going to be quite interesting…As always please review. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** After I got multiple reviews asking for an update, you get this.

**Buffalo, New York. April 4, 1980. (Jackie)**

_The sun was setting on another day in her new home. The weather in early spring was not much different than that of Wisconsin, and she was still looking forward to being able to wear he sundresses again. Jackie thought she would have missed Point Place more than she did. In truth, she missed the old Point Place, the one where she had grown up, the one with stupid Eric/Donna lovey-doviness, and pervy Fez, and idiotic Michael. The one without a skank-marrying, asshole of an ex-boyfriend._

_ She missed the parts that had been gone a long time before she had gotten out. Sighing the discontented sigh of the lonely, she thought of her most recent phone conversation with Mrs. Forman. It had gone well considering. Apparently Steven missed her—good for him. She felt that familiar twinge that always accompanied thoughts of him. It was like guilt, guilt for still wanting him, self-loathing for still wanting him. _Fuck!_ She didn't still want him. She couldn't still want him. And that's why she'd gotten out. Before she had a chance to fuck-up and go back to him. _

_ Jackie was a new woman in a new town. She could do whatever she wanted so she found the number of Larry Sloan, the man who had taken her on one date, and dialed, looking for the release of something easy and sure: a nice, rich, handsome guy. The man of her dreams._

**Point Place, Wisconsin. July 9, 1980. 10:36 (Jackie) **

Now she knew how some people felt when she talked. Mrs. Forman just wouldn't shut up. She kept trying to get Jackie to confess something, show some emotion. It reminded her of when they had found out about WB how Kitty was always waiting for Steven to break down into tears. Steven slammed his palm against the table, and she jumped. "Damn it, Jackie!"

"Damn it, Steven," she mimicked, her voice higher than usual.

"We're trying to help you, and you're not even listening."

Jackie stared at her eggs and started stirring them in a pensive manner, "You sound like Red, and I don't need help."

"A guy who would hit a chick is no good. I don't care how much shit he buys you or how _sorry_ he is that he did it. He broke your fucking ribs! When are you going to get it through your little Easy-Bake oven head? He's bad news." So what if she agreed with him? She was a slut and she deserved it—w_here did that come from?_ She just didn't want people to treat her differently that was all.

Kitty stared at him in shock of his foul words, "Well taking out all of that _language_ I agree with Steven. You two need to have a serious conversation and see a marital counselor. It's not a healthy relationship."

"This is the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. We love each other and my clumsiness has nothing to do with him. Now eat your damn eggs and stop bugging me." She spoke mainly to Steven hoping that he would get the message.

Kitty had other intentions, "Jacqueline Beulah Burkhart, I as good as raised you, and I will not let one of my babies put herself in danger. We are all adults, and we are going to talk about this."

Jackie grumbled something along the lines of, "Hell no," but backed down against the wrath of Kitty. A mute nod ended the standoff.

"Good. Steven told me he woke up to the door slamming and you were gone."

Another mute nod, "Jacks, this is the part where you talk. You have to tell us what happened." Steven placed his hand on her shoulder for the second time that morning, she should have felt patronized, but instead she leaned, just the slightest bit, into the firm comfort it offered.

She sighed in resignation knowing that if she was ever going to come clean this was her chance, "After Steven and I had gone to sleep, Larry showed up. He was drunk, and he was worried about me. So he asked what had happened. I told him about," She shot Hyde a furtive glance, "what we had done with the gang, and then said how Steven had been really nice about not wanting me to drive home drunk. He got really mad when I mentioned Steven." She stopped for a moment because this was the point where her memory got a little foggy. She remembered hi m getting really angry, the smell of alcohol on his breath and… it was a struggle to remember what had happened next. They had fought a little and then…She touched her arm where he had grabbed her. "He grabbed my arm and said we were leaving. He was mad that I was wearing your clothes." She was starting to shake.

"Come on, Jackie, you have to get it out." Steven's words comforted her just enough to continue.

"We argued a little more, and he told me to shut up—he called me a whore and then slapped me." Jackie could hear Steven clench his jaw.

Mrs. Forman looked concerned, "Was it the first time?"

Jackie swung her head from side to side very slowly, and the kind older lady gasped.

"How many other times, Jackie?" His voice was low.

Jackie swallowed the lump that was developing in her throat, "Once. He got drunk when we were in Cancun, but it was nothing."

"Shit." The one word conveyed all of his feelings on the matter. "When you called and asked for someone…it was then wasn't it? And I was acting like a—"

"You were being an ass." She cut him off purposefully.

"I'm so sorry, Jackie," The sober emotion in his voice shocked her, "If I had known, I would have…acted better."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters more than you think. Just—keep going tell us what happened."

"I threatened to wake you up, but he grabbed me and put his hand over my mouth. He drove us to the apartment, and told me I had to stop coming here. I stood up to him, and then he punched me in the ribs. He kicked me after I'd fallen down. That's when my ribs got broken."

**(Hyde)**

He could see the toll it was taking on her to tell them this. Her posture was slumped, her eyes dull, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and tell her that it was all going to be alright. That an asshole that would kick the girl he had just punched would get his retribution.

But he had hurt her just as surely as this bastard, and he had no right to comfort her. "Jackie, sweetheart, you need to stay away from him for now. You can stay in Laurie's room until you've had counseling."

"But Mrs. Forman I don't want counseling. I just want to go home to my husband."

"Jackie, he hit you. You've admitted it, but you still don't seem to get it. He's going to do it again, and it's going to get worse," Mrs. Forman stood firm against her defenses. "You kids just got married but if his violence progresses…" she let the near threat hang in the air.

"I can stay for tonight, but—this is my life—I can do it, and I'll talk him into counseling. Thank you Mrs. Forman."

"Anything for one of my babies," The two women embraced, and Kitty started to clean up the remains of their breakfast.

After she had cleaned, she left the two young adults alone with their thought. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she shifted in her seat.

The air was pregnant with unasked questions before he broke the tension, "How can you forgive him? Just tell me how you can forgive him for beating the hell out of you, and calling you a whore?" His jaw clenched again, and he refused to make eye contact.

"I love him, and I know he didn't mean it."

"How could he 'not mean it'? When we were dating, you would have never taken this. Have you just given up?" The desperation in his voice was so obvious it cut her to the soul.

Her voice became irate, "I've changed since high school. I'm not a little girl any more, and I've learned how real life works. It's not about the magic of love. It's working things out like adults. The spark can be there, but it's nothing without work and dedication."

"So you'll fight for him because that's the adult thing to do? That's not the Jackie I know," he steeled himself for what he knew he had to say next, "After you left, I called so many times. I called you in Buffalo and every time you ignored me. Do you know what that's like? To not be given the courtesy of a phone call?"

"I had to watch you live with someone else. I had to sit here and pretend that everything was fucking perfect while you were off banging your new blow-up-doll of a spouse!" She winced as her outburst jostled her ribs.

He shook his head in disbelief, "You ran away before I could make things right, and when I finally tried, you ignored me," he refused to raise his voice at her, and that coupled with her own weakness only angered her more.

"I left because there was nothing more for me here. Michael was in Chicago, Eric and Donna were getting ready for college, you had any whore you wanted, hell even Fez had moved on from me. I had nothing. So yes I ran away, and I met someone who could make all of this," she gestured to her chest trying to mime the emptiness that had characterized her in those months, "go away. I met Larry, and he was safe and rich. He made me whole again, and I knew that you could only hurt me more."

She sat in shock wondering where they could go from here. "It's not my place to judge, but you deserve more than what he's giving you."

"Steven, I gave up on my perfect fantasy a long time ago—it's time that you do to."

**(Hyde)**

He had broken her—the annoyingly optimistic cheerleader was no more, and it made his heart ache.

"I can't. Jackie, I know that you're married, and I know that you're going to hate me for this. I won't let something that I did to you be the reason you get beaten to death."

"It's only happened twice."

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done to nod. "Jackie, you need to promise me something. If he lays one hand on you again, you'll leave. You'll get the hell out—because these things escalate. The next time he might puncture a lung. I can't lose you."

"You lost me a long time ago." Her voice is cold.

**AN:** Only a few more chapter after this… so why don't you leave a review? It would really make me very happy :). Especially because I'm not sure about the way this chapter turned out.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I really tried to have this up by the end of Sunday but sadly it was not too be… Three weeks was a little too long sorry about that. We jump ahead…and then back…and then ahead…and then back so **pay attention to the dates**. Have fun :)

**December 31 1980 (Jackie)**

They said that time healed all wounds. They were, of course, wrong in that assumption, but time had helped. It had taken two weeks for her to move back in with Larry, three months until she could look him in the eye, and nearly six months before her ribs to healed completely. Steven had moved out of the Forman's only days after Jackie had moved back to her apartment, and over those two weeks he had become her only confidant. She had regaled him with the story of her time in Buffalo, confessed how she had felt before she left, explained how she would have gotten out one way or another—how he should be glad that she chose to do it that way.

She had talked about different thing s in therapy. The Doctor that Mrs. Forman recommended seemed to know his stuff, and they finally got things out in the open. Larry felt inadequate; Jackie only wanted to be loved. After the second session the therapist okayed them for cohabitation, and that was when Hyde had gotten grumpy.

**July 14 1980. 2:37 PM (Hyde)**

_He walked into the room that had housed Jackie for the past fourteen days. "How did it go?"_

_ She was packing her clothing into her frilly pink suitcase. "Great!" she winced because of the jolt she had just delivered to her ribs, "I'm moving back in with him since the Doctor said it was ok."_

_ "Oh…"the air was pregnant with his pause. "That's," and it killed him to choke out the words that would release her, "great." Even after two weeks of being her constant comfort, he knew that he no longer had a claim on her._

_ "I'm so happy, Steven," he could hear it even then, the screams she had let loose as Mrs. Forman bandaged her, the sobs she had muffled in his shoulder over the past two weeks, and yet Larry was forgiven. "The therapist said we've made a real breakthrough, and that it should be safe for me to move back in." She squealed but restrained her jumping._

_ "You're going to risk it for the "should"?" His voice had lost some of its strength as he asked the only question that might keep her safe—the only words that might make her reconsider._

_ "It's not a risk. It's a calculated decision," he could tell how happy she was by her cheekiness, and it made his heart swell to see that she was finally happy again. He had done his part over these two weeks, and he had healed the part of her that he had broken. Now it was Larry's turn._

_ "I'll see you around, Jacks," He bridged the distance and planted a small kiss on the crown of her head before walking out of the room—it looked like his chapter in her life was over now. She was finally over him, and he just needed to move the fuck on._

_ "Wait, Steven, aren't you happy for me?" Her voice echoed down the hall answering her own question. Moving on should start with a clean break._

**December 31 1980. 6:42 PM (Hyde)**

He had wanted a clean break. Hell he had needed a clean break if he ever wanted her out of his system, but that wasn't what she had in mind. Jackie was always inviting him to things—trying to set him up with girls he could care less about, but six months after the fact, and Larry hadn't screwed up yet. Hyde was coming to the conclusion that he might never make a mistake like that again—that Hyde would never get the chance to win her over. He should be glad, but instead he was angry, and fuck if he knew why. Except he did. He knew exactly why he wanted Larry to screw up, and it made him even angrier.

It was probably the most selfish thing he'd ever thought—which was surprising because he could be a textbook narcissist when he wanted to be.

But tonight he still found himself at the whim of a 95 pound brunette. He was going to her New Year's Eve party. He didn't want to go. He wanted to get drunk off of his ass—alone, but Jackie had that way about her, and he found himself putting on a damn tie to go to some cocktail party with her husband and all of their snobby friends.

He was sure that none of them ever saw the bruises. Just as he knew that none of them saw a Jackass when they looked at Larry. Hyde was just special that way.

**July 18 1980. 10:51 PM (Hyde)**

_Sitting at the bar he heard an all too familiar voice. Larry was in the building. Hyde had yet to confront The Ass about the asinine thing he had done, but now seemed like the perfect opportunity. He rose from his seat and turned around to see Larry conversing with another random person. It looked like Larry was drunker than Edna on poker night, and that just pissed him off more._

_ He approached the man he loathed, said his name, and then cocked his fist back to hit Larry straight in the eye. Larry sprawled on the ground and started to get up eager to find out why Hyde had hit him—and to, more than likely, hit Hyde back. "That's for what you did to her." _

_ Larry stood there flabbergasted. "Now go home to her, and tell her that you're sorry you piece of shit." The two men stood there for a few moments slowly assessing each other, and finally came to an understanding. They could never be friends. No matter how much they had in common the gap was too large to bridge. The first revenge had been gotten by the only man who knew his secret._

**December 31. 6:47 PM (Jackie)**

She finished applying her lip gloss and leaned over to adjust her top before blowing a quick kiss at herself in the mirror as Larry stood in the doorway silently urging her to hurry up. Bustling around a little more she grabbed her cardigan before spinning on her heal to face him. He smiled the smile that told her he thought she was being cute. Things had been so much happier these past few months—more carefree—she could nearly forget what had happened so soon after their wedding. Hyde, however, just couldn't seem to let it go.

It was her firm belief that all he really needed was a new girl. Someone to get his mind away from her, and Jackie knew just the woman. She had, unannounced to Hyde, invited Kristen. She and Jackie had worked together at the station for the last few months and was nice enough to merit an invitation to the Sloan's New Year's party. The fact that she also happened to be quite attractive and bubbly didn't hurt her chances and neither did her love of Zeppelin. Her plan was perfect; after all, Jacqueline Burkhart had been the best matchmaker in Wisconsin.

**7:30**

By now the party was in full swing and the two lovebirds had been introduced. Jackie allowed herself a small pat on the back for starting them in on a debate about the death of John Bonham that had occurred sometime back in September remembering that both of them had been very upset well into October. They were now going at it—spewing different conspiracy theories left and right—trying to reconcile with the loss of their favorite band.

Wearing that little half-smile that told her he was truly happy Steven glanced in her direction and gave her a subtle nod accompanied by a wink. He liked Kristen. She had finally won a battle.

**11:59**

Jackie ended 1980 in a much better mood than 1979. She was wrapped in the warm embrace of the man she loved as a group of her closest friends counted down the seconds until another year had passed. Sparing a quick glance to look at Steven and Kristen and noticed that they were standing very close together—he was wearing his trademark smirk. At the count of one, she tilted her head up to receive her kiss all while watching Hyde lower his. Jackie watched as he pressed those firm, soft lips to Kristen's and then slowly worked her mouth open until they were the last people in the room left kissing.

**January 1 1981. 12:00 AM**

She started 1981 in a way she never would have thought possible. Jealous of the girl who got to kiss Steven Hyde. In the next instant, her attention was drawn to her husband whose hand was biting into her waist. He looked down at her with a question present in his eyes, but she just shook it off and leaned in for another peck. "Happy New Year, baby," she murmured against his frozen lips. Looked like someone else had noticed the new couple too.

**December 31 1980. 11:59 PM (Hyde)**

He hadn't really planned on this. The whole point of tonight was to get drunk and make sure that Larry was behaving. Hyde wasn't supposed to meet her. This girl who might be too good to be true. This little auburn-haired girl, with too many freckles, and the most infectious smile. The one girl on the planet who was enough like Jackie to soothe him, but different enough to warrant interest. And damn it she liked Zeppelin. Steven Hyde hadn't planned on kissing her like this either. It had just happened when he leaned down, but God she tasted good—like fucking cherries.

**January 1 1981. 12:00 AM**

He started 1981 with a new appreciation for the lengths that Jackie would go to make him move on. That girl wouldn't quit.

**2:30 AM (Jackie)**

The party had wound down rather quickly after midnight and Jackie was just finishing cleaning up most of the mess when she fell into Larry's arms on the couch. She was exhausted and just the slightest bit bitter, but nonetheless happy. She snuggled closer to his chest and let out a happy whimper as he began to stroke her back. "So…Hyde and Kris?"

Her sleepy nod was hidden against his chest. "They make a cute couple. I hope it works out."

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you were jealous of her," she couldn't tell if he was kidding.

With a smile she responded, "Now who sounds jealous?"

"You're right, baby." The conversation ended with a kiss to the crown of her head as she snuggled deeper against his chest. In the state just before unconsciousness, she had a premonition that 1981 was going to be the most exciting year yet.

**February 7 1981. 2:31 PM (Jackie)**

Lazy Saturdays were the best—especially when you mixed them with wine, a good friend, and some even better gossip. Steven and Kris had managed to stay together for just over a month, and she and Jackie were having a great time polishing off a bottle of Jackie's favorite Pinot. "So Kris, have you two…" her question trailed and was accented with a salacious look.

Kristen was reduced to giggles. "Next weekend, for Valentine's we're going to a B&B. I have it all planned out."

"How did you manage that? Steven hates plans and _God _in the heat of the moment he was always just so…I can't believe that you two haven't done the deed yet. Well, have fun because hot damn that man is a gift to women." Jackie lifted her glass in a toast and was startled by Larry's voice.

"Are you toasting me again, darling?"

"Oh," her voice fell, "Welcome home baby. Kris and I were just talking about her and Hyde's situation. Nothing to worry about," a smile accented the soothing words.

**9:34 PM**

She crawled into bed early feeling the after-effects of consuming too much wine, and was soon joined by her husband. He crawled into the Queen-sized bed beside her and leaned in close grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head while tracing his lips along the curve of her neck.

"Jackie, who do you belong to?" A kiss just below her ear.

"I'm not really in the mood for this, Larry, just go to sleep." A nip at her collarbone.

"Wrong answer. You're _mine,_ Jackie; remember that next time you talk about Steven Hyde." Her wrists stayed in one large hand as he trailed the other down her body. "These," his firm grip moved to her breasts, "are mine."

"Stop it," thrashing to try and break free her small weight was of no use, "Larry, I'm not your property."

"You've always been so feisty, but now is not the time to fight back." His hand kept trailing down farther and farther until it touched just on the inside of her thigh.

"I don't want this. You know I love you. You know that I would never cheat on you. Baby, you're scaring me," unbidden the tears began to fall and he stopped seemingly shocked to find himself doing what he was. He dropped her hands from his grip and rolled off of her.

"I know. Fuck, I know that. Please, don't cry."

"Sleep on the couch tonight." She rolled so that she didn't have to see him slump out of their bedroom. It was starting again, and this time Steven had someone else to spend his time worrying about.

**AN:** For a little bit I didn't know where I was going with this and then there was light. It looks like there are only about three chapters to go… Oh and review please there are only a few chances left and so many of you seem to follow this story a review would make me so very happy. :) I will try to have the net chapter out within the usual two weeks.

Also sorry about the whole Hyde/Kristen thing…It needs to happen just keep the JH faith.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **I have a very bad history with the month of May. Very, very, bad. So I'm sorry that this has taken so long. I think that when you read it you'll understand part of why it took so long (and yet I've still avoided the hardest part—that dears comes next chapter).

**February 15 1981. (Jackie)**

She wasn't sure what hurt more. The bruises currently blossoming on her shoulder or the stunning blow his words had had on her once again. _Inconsiderate. Whore. Bitch. _Each had been punctuated by his blows and the stench of alcohol on his breath. She should have left. She should've called Steven or Mrs. Forman or even their couples' therapist. But she didn't. She sat there and took all of it, and she had no fucking clue why—even now when he had stormed out—she was still sitting on the couch. Just sitting there, staring listlessly at the glass of wine she had poured for herself before he had come home.

Other words echoed in her head. Words of comfort from Steven last July. The things he'd almost said ringing sweeter in her ears than anything Larry had said to her in months. There was a lump in her throat—the one that always shows up just before you lose it.

Now, sitting by herself, in a dark apartment, with the remnants of her hope lost, she made a decision that she would regret. So many times over. So much more than she could ever imagine at that moment. No one needed to know. No one _would_ know that she had failed as a wife.

**February 14 1981. (Hyde)**

He would be loath to admit it, and if asked he would deny it with every fiber in his being, but he liked the way Kris had planned this. He enjoyed the cheesy over-the-top romanticism of the entire night, the way she'd ordered champagne, but still brought a six-pack just in case, he'd enjoyed that lilt to her voice that told him she was hiding something. Later he found out it was her lack of panties.

Kris was just so easy to fall for. With her sweet face and her full lips and that little giggle that always accompanied her smirks. With hindsight he would see what should have been all too clear. But that night, in that room, he had just been so damn enamored with a girl that was just too easy to love.

**February 17 1981. (Hyde)**

Tuesday dinners were always odd. They were never really planned they just seemed to happen. Every damn Tuesday he was forced, by Kris, to put on a button-down shirt and interact in a highly social environment with a man he knew to be a complete jackass. At least, Jackie seemed happy. He thought that, maybe, just this once, they could both be happy—in two separate, yet healthy relationships. It had taken a while be he felt that he had finally found something he could trust. He could protect Jackie and have Kris.

They approached the apartment together and he knocked prepared for the whirlwind that was his ex-girlfriend. Jackie didn't disappoint when she opened the door, and they were greeted with the warm aroma of food. It was hard to believe that only seven months ago the beautiful, vivacious woman in front of him had been talking about how much she had wanted to kill herself, and I was even harder to wrap his mind around how she'd gotten back to the point of sheer giddiness. The Jackass didn't deserve her, but that wasn't his decision to make so he pulled Kristen closer to his side and kissed the top of her head. Jackie invited them in from the cold February night and they started acting like regular couples that did regular things.

They each ate a portion of Jackie's cooking and thanked their lucky stars that it was cooked the whole way through, and then they sat down to play a game of hearts. When he and Kris finally left at ten they were smiling like fools.

**10:06 PM. (Jackie)**

It felt so good to see him happy. So damn right. He had his smile back, and for that she would be eternally grateful to Kristen. Humming a song quietly to herself as she cleared the table she was surprised when she felt a strong pair of arms encircle her waist. "I'm…sorry. About Sunday. I was out of line—it's just when I think about you and _him_," he referred to Steven with the greatest disdain evident in his tone, "it makes me a little sick. Forgive me?"

"You can't keep doing this to me. God, I love you, but can't you see? It's starting again and I don't want another set of broken ribs before you realize what you've done. Steven and I are over and we have been for a long time." She recognized the whining tone in her own voice—the desperation that was so close to begging.

He spun her around and looked into her eyes. "I fucked up—I always seem to when it matters most, but…forgive me? Say it, Linnie, I have to hear you say it." With a desperation of his own he was nearly to charming to resist, and she didn't know why, but she forgave him.

A kiss gave him her answer, and it communicated all that she couldn't bear to say to him. This was their last chance—his last chance—and if he messed up again they were over.

**April 21 1981. (Jackie)**

She couldn't remember if it had been this frightening last time. Of course, last time she had been fifteen, so maybe it had been scarier, but that seems like an impossibility right now because she was desperately frightened. Pregnant to a man that could, at any time, decide to do some shots and then take some shots at her. This was the point where she should pack her things and go to someone and ask for help, but she would always be too stubborn to admit that anything was wrong—except to the one person who knew already.

Grabbing her purse she ran to the door and quickly drove the ten minutes to Hyde's apartment. The tears manifested somewhere between her car and his door, but now they were here to stay so she choked them out like a pro. His door was white and unassuming—6B—so she knocked, and was startled when he answered clad in only a pair of his loose jeans.

His eyes widened in shock unable to fully comprehend the sobbing brunette before she flung herself into his chest. "Jacks, calm down. What's wrong?" Always so trusting she put her full weight into his body and he lifted her to carry to the couch.

As soon as they sat down, she calmed herself long enough to blurt her secret, and then proceeded to sob into his chest. "We aren't ready for this, Steven. I mean we'd just decided to give it another try and now…"

"It's ok. I'll be here the whole time, and even if he doesn't take it well…I know you'll be a great mom."

"You—you think so?" Her sobs subsided into pitiful sniffles as she pulled herself together. "Look at me, showing up here, expecting you to care," she laughed, that universal self-deprecating laugh.

"I do care. Jacks, we may not always get along famously, but I'll always _care_."

"Thank you Steven. Umm, why are you half-naked?" He looked down at his chest as if suddenly realizing his own state of undress.

"Oh! Uh...Kris and I were kinda taking a nap—and that's not a euphemism—we were actually sleeping," though he still had the good grace to blush.

"You know me, I'm just a home wrecker," it was a joke that hit too close to home, "I should leave. I'll tell you how he takes it. I don't know what I'd do without you." She leaned into his chest one more time and took a deep inhale of his warm, soapy scent.

**(Hyde)**

"You'll be fine. You always are." Her hair smelled like coconut when he kissed the top of her head, and just like that she was standing and walking out of his apartment. He shouldn't have let her go, but he didn't know that, and he wouldn't regret it until it was too late.

"It's yours isn't it? How could you?" From one crying woman to another he was suddenly confronted with his very pissed-off girlfriend.

"What are you talking about?" His confusion was honest if not convincing.

"Jackie's baby. Why the hell else would she show up here and start bawling about how you _just decided to give it another try_. How long have you two been…?" Her tears came harder now. "I thought—I though you loved me."

"Kris, I have no idea where you even got the thought that I would do this to you. It's not my baby."

"Don't talk to me. I can't trust a word you're saying because Jackie said it all. You still love her. I see it every time you look at her." He was shocked that his level-headed girlfriend could transform into this so he said the only thing that came to mind.

"You're acting crazy," which turned out to be a horrible idea.

"I'm going home. Tell Jackie that she doesn't have to worry about me fighting for her baby's father."

"Fuck, Kris! I haven't slept with anyone but you since the day we met. What reason have I given you to think that?"

"Larry told me about last July. You and her Steven—I can't fight that. I just hope that you're happy with what you've done." He thought back to last July—the very moment when he'd been so sure that Jackie would finally be his, but the memory didn't have that golden glow he'd come to associate with it. It was empty because now he had something new—something that was going to leave him. How the hell did he always manage to fuck things up?

**(Jackie)**

By the time she got home she could see Larry's car parked in his space right beside hers. Prayer was not something that she usually participated in though, like most people raised in America, her views held a decidedly Christian tilt, so she muttered something about acceptance under her breath before preparing to enter her apartment.

When she opened the door, the lights were all out and Larry was sitting on the couch—waiting. "Kris called—she was there you know—when you told Hyde that you were pregnant. I fucking knew that you were cheating on me."

Shock as an emotion had always been rather useless. It conveyed nothing else but the utter lack of knowledge. Shock was that numb thing that made you stand there like a jackass while your brain tried to process what the hell was going on. Anger was better—or hurt—or even surprise because all of those expressed something. But it was shock that her body landed on as he asserted the thing he had always thought.

"It's your baby. And maybe I wish it was his, but I haven't had sex with Steven since the damn 70s." Shock melts replaced by something that is both cold and hot at the same time, rage that had been suppressed.

"Why are you still lying? Why could you never tell me the truth, Jackie? Just admit it." He was standing now getting right up in her face. She didn't take the bait and instead fought back.

"You've never believed a thing I've said. What does it matter now?" It was then that he hit her. A striking blow across the face that had her sprawled on the floor. He started kicking her then and her body curled to protect her abdomen. She thought only of protecting the one good thing she might be able to save from this relationship.

**(Hyde)**

He wasn't exactly sure how he ended up here. Cruising the town looking for something and nothing and everything. He knew that Kris had overreacted, and he knew that they would probably be back together in a week, but he was worried about Jackie. Something just wasn't sitting right with him so he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex and was greeted with something odd. Larry's car wasn't there. He got out of the Camino and ran up the two flights of steps to be interrupted by the open door. Swinging in the late April breeze was the door that should be protecting her. He walked inside and did a quick doubletake as he was greeted with the one thing he knew that he would never forget.

Jackie was lying in a pool of her own blood, unconscious and barely breathing.

**AN: **I will do my best to have the next chapter up faster.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: **Sorry for the delay… I hope that this was worth the wait. (Also you guys kick ass. This is my most alerted story _ever_ with 70 freakin' 5 alerts! There are 75 people who liked this enough to want to be notified every time I update. If you are one of them, steal some of Fez's candy on me if not… I love you anyway.)

**April 22 1981 (Hyde)**

At the end, it all came down to this. Jackie was lying in a hospital bed, her breaths shallow as she slept in a drug induced haze.

She wasn't dying. That was the only happy thought he had to hold on to. The rest was just a blur of sadness and regret. She had miscarried, the police were looking for Larry, Mrs. Forman was somewhere talking to a distraught Kris, and he sat here—in this sterile room that was the color green he thought might be universal for hospitals—waiting for her to wake up.

He didn't know how he was going to tell her. He didn't know why the task even fell to him. Sure Kitty had pulled a few strings so that he could stay with her and sure he had been one of the first people to be told about the miscarriage, but he had no damn clue why he had to be the one to tell his ex-girlfriend that her dick of husband beat her, nearly to death, and she has three more broken ribs, a shattered ulna, and that the baby she thought would save their marriage was killed in his rage. Not to mention it was his damned girlfriend's fault.

He hadn't talked to Kris yet, he was too angry. They had been so happy, and Kristen had just thrown it all away because of a misheard conversation. What was it about Jackie that made the women he dated nervous? They hadn't been together in two years, and she still had this power over him.

The girls he had dated (and married) after Jackie seemed to be nothing more than distractions on the crash course of their relationship. It seemed, now, that even Larry was some kind of tool to force them back together. Hyde was done fighting the inevitable, and now nothing stood in the way of their reunion. It just sucked that it had taken this much for him to realize it.

:.:.:.:

When she finally opened her eyes, he knew that she knew. There was a dullness to her jewel-toned eyes that hadn't been present since 1979, and it killed him a little inside, but she asked anyway, in her child's voice that was hoarse from hours of sleep. Two words, "The baby…" he shook his head to the side in a silent negative not knowing if he was telling her not to ask or giving her the answer she dreaded.

Her lower lip started to quiver and then the tears came, raging full force down her cheeks. Seeing her like this seemed to strengthen his earlier resolve.

He still loved her. Maybe he had always loved her. And she needed him. So he swallowed what little remained of his pride and rose from the chair right beside her bed to place a gentle hand in her hair. It was no longer about Sam or Larry or Kris or all of the burns that had passed between them, in that moment they were the same people they had been that first summer. She was a heartbroken girl, and he was the guy whose kiss could make her forget everything. Except this time their problems were so much larger than runaway boyfriends and boys who refused to leave the bathroom.

She grabbed the hand he had placed in her hair and pulled him down using his arm as a makeshift teddy bear and squeezing him closer until her eyes ran dry. "I failed. I… I'm not good at being a wife, my _husband _was convinced that I cheated on him, I couldn't even protect my fucking baby." He stared at her in shock as he registered her use of the cuss-word—if her state of panic wasn't so frightening he would have laughed.

"Jacks, you're not a failure. You got caught in a bad situation and there's nothing we can do to change the past. We just need to know that there's a future." He didn't sound like himself—calm, controlled, a_dult_—these were not the adjectives that people used in conjunction with his name, but he sounded like an adult, even to his own ears. When the fuck did this happen?

"What are you even doing here? Why is it always you who has to save me?" She sounded like she was angry with him, which just kind of confused him, but he brushed away the confusion because she was probably in shock or something, and, hey, he should probably tell the nurses that Jackie was awake.

"It's a long story, and you're probably in shock. Let me get a nurse." Disentangling himself from her iron grasp he made his way to the door to call one of the nurses.

To his turned back she murmured something that wasn't quite a whisper, "It's always you." He wasn't sure if it was meant to be heard so he continued on his walk to the nurses' station.

**(Jackie)**

Running away seemed like a plausible option at this point. She was just so damn _embarrassed._ Her thoughts kept oscillating between two words. Both singular, both related to each other, both the most complex thoughts she could entertain in this state. _Failure. Baby._ But _baby _just hurt too much so she tried to settle on _failure_ because it included _baby _but didn't hurt quite as badly. Like somehow placing it with all of her other failures made it less real.

Crying hurt, which meant that she had more broken ribs and her right arm was in a cast—she remembered the blow that had shattered it as she tried to shield her…baby. And the injuries hurt, but nothing hurt quite as much as that word.

She hadn't yet cried all of the tears that needed to be released, but she refused to let another fall in front of Steven Hyde. He had a life and a girlfriend and—why was he here again? Why was it always him who had to see her at her worst? The one person to whom she always wanted to appear strong. Life wasn't fair if it was then there would be no need for Larry or Kris—it would have always just been Jackie and Hyde.

And damn it all to fucking hell because he was making her fall in love with him all over again. They'd played this game before, and the moment she'd been most vulnerable he'd destroyed her.

When he re-entered the room, it was to a stark silence, penetrated only by her muffled sniffles. He shifted in his boots clearly uncomfortable, and she reveled in his discomfort. He sat in his original chair and spoke. "There's a nurse coming to check on you." Her response was a terse nod and then a question of her own.

"Where's Kris?" The unspoken _shouldn't you be with your girlfriend _hung in the air between them.

"She and I aren't on speaking terms right now," through her own pain she could still see how much Kristen's betrayal hurt him.

Jackie let out a breath before adding her two cents, "She heard me telling you about… my situation. She told Larry what she had assumed?" It was a question because she had forgotten most of the events prior to her beating.

"She didn't trust me and that lead to a poor decision that nearly got you killed. So…yes."

"I would've done the same thing if I were her. You know that right? Don't hate someone who makes you happy just because I'm stupid." She wondered when she lost all of her self-esteem.

**(Hyde)**

He was about to do the most clichéd, out of character, moronic thing he had ever done in his entire life, and he couldn't care less. Before he realized that the words were forming they were there, "Jacks, _you_ make me happy. You make me happy like Kris never could and never will. So please stop beating yourself up," he winced at his own word choice, "For something that you couldn't control. Doll, I know you've got issues, but so do I, and the thing that I've just realized is that you mean more to me than all of those other girls combined. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you couldn't ever love me again and I will leave you alone. But if there's any chance for us then I'm taking it. And I'm never letting go again."

It was that precise moment that the nurse entered her room and ushered him outside. Like she had been waiting until the exactly right second to leave him most vulnerable. He simply stood outside of her room for the ten minutes and paced—her answer had the possibility to break him, and right now he was more of a pussy than Forman.

The nurse exited the room and offered him a warm smile before gesturing him back inside. She spoke the moment his head entered her line of sight. "Did you mean it?"

"Every. Word." He had never been this intense in his life. Never had such a momentous goal that he yearned to achieve.

"I'll always love you, Steven. Always. And I knew that on my wedding day, and I knew that when I introduced you to Kristen. But this is the first time that you've ever been the one to bridge the gap, and I don't know if I can trust that." It felt like she couldn't stop crying.

"Second. There was July, Jackie, and I tried then but you wouldn't let me. You're too stubborn, and I'm too distant, and it _shouldn't_ work, but it _does_. I love you. I know it's not enough, but it's true and I will do whatever I can to keep you."

**(Jackie)**

She was crying—still—but this time she was sure they were happy tears because she had lost so much only to be given the only thing she'd ever really craved. He**—**Steven J. Hyde—had just admitted that he loved her.

She wondered why it had to come to this, and if there was an easier way she would have chosen it hands down, but this instant of complete understanding between them would be worth the months of pain ahead, and make right the year of pain they were leaving behind. Because they finally saw each other for exactly who they were, who they had always been, and who they would always be.

**AN:** I talked to a few of you about this chapter and how demanding it was to write. This entire story had been such a rollercoaster for me, and I thank you for staying on for the ride. We have only the epilogue left and I promise it will just be a fluffy reward for the angst fest that was the rest of this story. I just have a few questions: Do you want to know what happened to Kris? What about Larry? Are there any more loose-ends that need tied up? Happy reviewing. :)


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